Hollow Men
by StrangerWays
Summary: The kids of PS118 are forced to fend for themselves when their parents are killed by a mysterious force that wrecks havoc in their once peaceful city. Will they overcome the oncoming problems that lay ahead or will they become their own problem?
1. You're Still Breathing

**A/N:** I wrote this two or three years ago. I had even posted it on this site. So maybe some will remember this. Enjoy.

 **Chapter 1: You're Still Breathing**

It was like this flash of light. So bright it pierced my eyes rending me blind. How could white light leave me blind? A loud shocking crash burned my ears so that my knees buckled and I became so weak. I felt one again learning the first steps of walkin. Learning stability by just walking yet alone standing still. The light came and gone only leaving the blackness and these empty thoughts. Here I am everythings fading and past emotions and scenes of the past flash before my eyes.

I'm seeing the rain, my yellow rain coat, the black rainboots stepping on puddles purposely because I am a young boy fascinated with the complex small pond before my eyes. My umbrella is a sheild protecting me from the harshness of reality, the sting of the acid that weakens us and washes us clean all the same. We call this oximoron rain. I look up from the cracked sidewalk of sand to see the sun and the ocean finally came into agreement, and its all manifested in this other being's hair. In two drooping pigtails, she doesn't look up, her eyes cast down upon the ground. I think I run over to her attracted by her height and hair, a miracolous thing really.

My umbrella now sheilds us both. She notices the disappearance of the acid water and looks up and then into my eyes. And there it was, the most beautiful blue I had ever seen better than any crayola blue. Her eyes must certainly make the seas jealous. She is confused by my gesture and I am at a loss of words, I want to make her happy. It is necessary I satisfy her. I don't know why? Maybe because she is the only other child I've ever met or that she's covered in mud or her sun/ocean hair or those envious eyes. Either way I notice the shade of pink, her ribbon making her her own in some way and her overalls shaping her perfectly. I compliment her outloud and she says what? I realize what I've said and repeat it. She looks terrified and happy and I feel awkward...Was she cursed, her inability to comprehend a compliment? Those seas must have hated her for her eyes. I won't dwell on it to long though, we have prewscwel to get to. I run in and she follows right after me.

 _We're meant to be together. You will always follow me and I will always comfort you. You and I can never seperate. In life and in death, we are forever bound._

Deep sobbing. Crashing. Screaming. Coughing. The smell of rust and salt. The smell of bodily odor. The smell of dubre. I am seeing with my eyes closed. I open them slowly but I find myself fluttering awake. I know that what I'll see will not be anything I've ever experienced, that I should mentally prepare myself for the dread coming my way. With one final blink I open my eyes and I am here in my classroom and outside as well. The wall where the windows resided are torn down in an unprofessional manor, I am horrified but my shock doesn't seize. There in the corner sobbing is Lila along with Sheena. I want to ask what's wrong, how can I help but no words form as I follow their gaze to see Mr. Simmons crushed by the ceiling, red seeping from under his back, its forming its own small puddle. Rhonda is crying on Nadine's shoulder, who is crying into her hands. The two girls have traded their signature black and blonde hair for white, along with their clothes.

I look around and find my best friend Gerald sitting with his knees up looking out into the gray of the sky, all hope lost within his brown eyes, his hair deflated and covered in the white mess. I find Stinky and Harold, their eyes no longer of the age 12 but much older, so grim. Sid is pacing back and forth in a corner, his white boots squeaking with each abrupt turn. The screams in the hallway become louder. Eugene joins Sheena, his happy behavior torn from what his eyes had fallen upon. Lorenzo tries to call his mother but she doesn't answer and he doesn't quit. Park, Joey, Iggy, and Peapod kid sit off together talking trying to explain what happened. Brainy and Curly are perhaps the most silent, they speak to no one and just observe, like me. Helga sits beside Phoebe, patting her back lovingly as the Asian girl stares into her broken glasses, exclaiming they're broken and need to be fixed. Helga only agrees and continues to listen as if nothing had happened. Her pigtails drooping one out completely. _In life and in death, we are forever bound._

With ten minutes to myself to think. I finally stand and walk towards the open outside wall but pause. I can feel all of their eyes on me, burning my back with their gazes. I am their leader, I am their protector, and I am the most mature other than Phoebe and Rhonda. I take a shaky breath and realize my throat is burning and I'm begging for water. I feel wearied, My shoulders ache, my back, my head, my whole being.

"Everyone..." The sobbing stops, the silent talk stops, the dialing stops, the pacing, the soft murmmering, and the thoughts. "Form a circle please." I don't ask, I demand it.

We all form a circle, hesitant of course but its done. I look out to the group, and they all share the same look as I. They're worried for their love ones at home. I look around at all of my classmates faces but one settles out more, those sea envious eyes read indifference and it baffles me.

"We all need to look around the school for other...survivors." I'm being so blunt. I...just find it hard to give a happy introduction to a situation like this.

"Help as many as we can...once we're done with that, we can split into groups and find our...families." I cough at the word and wish to take back my feelings toward them. I'd take it all back if they survive. Wordless we all shuffle to our feet, almost...

"What...what do we do with Mr. Simmons?" Eugene sniffles. I rub my fingers against each side of my temples. Death isn't foreign to me, it always hung around me. In comparison like loneliness to a depressant, or lust to a sex addict. It had always been there, lingering. Mr. Simmons death was hard but I just need to repress it. So I do.

"We'll figure it out later. We have a chance to help others before its too late for them. Come on." I watch as all of my classmates exit the door, the last one greeted my green eyes with their sea envious ones, they had sympathy in them. I quickly glance away, I don't need that. I...I have to focus.

The hallways are worse, the lights are non existent almost, hanging off the celing dangerously swinging, the lockers, torn or dented, the windows to all the classroom doors broken and worst of all the bloodied bodies covered in white lay lifeless. With each classroom entered and each shoulder tapped and each pulse checked, we are all alone. The cafeteria's staff is dead, the head chef stabbed by her own knife. My only thoughts are we could stock up on the food. I feel disgusted with myself, I feel sick. Some of my classmates have gotten sick already from the sight, gagged and sobbed some more, while others cried for their parents. Lorenzo kept trying to call his mother, she was all he had. The teachers. DEAD. The 1st graders. DEAD. 2nd graders. DEAD. 3rd graders. DEAD. 4th graders. DEAD. 5th graders. DEAD. 6th graders. DEAD. Our principal, Wartz...he...died, I could still see the tear stains on his cheeks. The brightside was fading but of course I would pretend it was still there, like I pretended my parents were still alive. I know they're not, deep down.

The walk back to the classroom is silent, with the occasional silent sob and sniffle. Then we hear it. The supressed groan. All eyes look toward the janitor closet and then toward me. I want to open he door but I can't take another surprise. The door creaks and theres Helga slowly opening it. Chocolate boy, the half of him we see, his upper half. He is drastically pale, in a sweat, his eyes dilated and mouth and nose bloodied with dry brown blood. Helga opens it more and there is the cause. A broom jammed itself into his intestines, a half eaten chocolate bar in his left hand. My heart goes out to him and his eyes lock with me, he deep frowns and it is true pain. The agonizing truth pouring out from his eyes. The water spilling. "Arnold, I miss my Nanny." More tears spilled. I find myself on my knees beside him, his head craddled on my lap perfectly.

"Sleep Chocolate Boy." I hush him from his mummers.

"Arnold.." He shakily speaks and coughs. "Ratishes...suck." He laughs and I find myself laughing after a huge shaky breath comes out. "It doesn't hurt anymore, you know." My eyes widen. I could only imagine the pain or lack of.

"Ohhh that bright light's back Arnold!" I can't understand him, the rift between death and life. "Nanny?!" Chocolate boy smiles, his tears fall slowly now as his gaze disappears from the ceiling and land on mine. "I gotta go now, Nanny has a bunch of chocolate for me!" Chocolate boy smiles at me.

"Bye Chocolate Boy." I smile.

And then he's gone.

He doesn't speak nor move. I slowly set him down back to the ground and stand. Nothing makes sense. I turn around and everyone is silently crying. I turn away from each person, all the same reactions. One surprises me. The sea envios eyes are leaking salt water, she places her index finger and thumb under my cheek wiping away at my now apparent tears. I have finally cried. _You and I can never seperate._

Our classroom that once was one of our definition of us is now torn. I can't help but think this analogy will somehow be metaphoric. The silence is consumed. "Who ever lives closest to each other walk together and search for your family." I look around and decide who lives closest to each other. "Lorenzo, Rhonda, Peapod Kid, and Iggy." They all nod. "Harold, Park, Curly, Nadine, Eugene and Sheena." Eugene takes Sheena's hand sending her strength. "Brainy, Lila, Sid, Joey and Stinky." Lila's hazel eyes search mine for comfort but I have to look away, be strong. "Last Gerald, Phoebe, Helga and I." I finished an exhausted breath coming out.

"Listen up." I can hear her strong voice ring out, her hair still unbothered. "Meet at Gerald Field at 8. Lets go!" She yelled out, She exited out the broken wall and was greeted with the grey cold sky. Her head tilted up and the water began to flicker down on her a bit. Her eyes fluttered. I noticed her tears mixed in. She picked the perfect time to cry. I walked ahead of her not before seeing Phoebe and Gerald's hands intertwined together. I had an urge to comfort Helga but knowing her all of my life, she would only scruntinze me, maybe even more due to todays events. But she followed close behind me, so close her breath comforted my neck. With a new confidence, my hand reached back and held hers. I could feel the tremble in them, and the lack of reaction but she grasped mine tiredly. It felt good to be touched right now, I needed it. _You will always follow me and I will always comfort you._

The walk is relativly silent. No one speaks for everyone is afraid of what they will find. I admit this same feeling, I cannot lose again. I've already lost my parents how will I deal with my surrogate families loss? I won't think on it. Right now grandma is yelling about how the world is ending and grandpa is yelling at her to calm down, that she's a crazy loon. Mr. Potts is cursing at Oscar telling him to not eat all the food because we need to save up. Oscar continues to sneak more into his mouth and some ino his wifes purse. Mr. Hyun screams for everyone to stop yelling all together because he's concerned for his daughter well being. Everyone is fine. I believe it strongly.

My hand feels cold and my thoughts are back to reality. Helga has let go and she is now looking at me. We are at the corner that seperates our travel. We are now alone. She looks like she wants to speak, I want her too. Her mouth quivers and her eyes avert their gaze, those sea envious eyes. She weakly nods at me and turns her back from me and begins to walk. I watch her leave, the yellow hair down her back, the other in a drooping pigtail.

I wonder what she's thinking. I know her strong dislike of her family but I also know her strong love that she begs for from them. If she were to find them alive would things change? Or if she were to find them...would she regret? She stops walking and stands a distance from me. She doesn't look at me but she speaks. "Good luck Arnold." Her voice sounds weak and dare I say...sincere? When I realize I'm still analyzing her words I look up to an empty corner. Guess it's my turn to go home.

Three short blocks and I'm there. I murmur to myself outloud. _Right now grandma is yelling about how the world is ending and grandpa is yelling at her to calm down, that she's a crazy loon._ Left foot. _Mr. Potts is cursing at Oscar telling him to not eat all the food because we need to save up._ Right Foot. _Oscar continues to sneak more into his mouth and some ino his wifes purse._ Stoop steps. _Mr. Hyun screams for everyone to stop yelling all together because he's concerned for his daughter well being._ Opening the door. _Everyone is fine._ No animals run out. _I believe it strongly._ Silence.

 _The day of the great flood in Hillwood was one that no one was prepared for...well except grandpa. The teachers were almost nonexistent, the class savage and the tension was filling the atmosphere. I wanted to join my classmates and play along. I waned to feel free and wild to lose control just once but Mr. Simmons brought me back to reality. I am too good sometimes but like the world I get tempted. Sometimes it takes adult supervision for me to be brought back to reality, I can be tempted easily and I can be worse than the rest of my classmates. I am dangerous. Helga fell, I can't reach her. I need her with me...she's alright, we are rescued by grandpa. He is a savior of sorts. I am grateful and happy we're alive and well. Things worked out fine. I believed it strongly._

Abner is dead. His body bloodied, crushed from the weight of a coat rack, it stabbed him. "Grandma...Grandpa!" I call them but they don't answer, no one does. I travel the house in a rush. I have no thoughts except of what I need to do, I'm in a panic. I have no answers, I am Arnold the carrier of solution but with none for himself. Suzie's body lay limp in the kitchen, her head seeping red, it's covering the tile floor. A piece of her head on the edge counter. There is a walll in the kitchen, bricks and dust fall out by the few minutes.

Mr. Potts body and head crushed by the bricks he once crushed himself. I piece together the irony. I am horrid. Mr. Hyunn is missing, probably went off to be with his real family. Why does this bother me? I am walking to the Kokaska's room. The door is cracked, I swing it open slowly. Oskar is face forward down on the empty bottles he once laid out around the couch, blood is everywhere around him, englufing him till the floor seeps blood. I turn him over and see the cause of death, a bottle lunged into his throat. My surrogate family are dead.

My breaths feel shallow and my heart is racing, I am crying from the anticpation of seeing my real family of what they could be. I feel like I'm losing everything. It is almost humorous how I thought I had already lost everything when my parents left out of my life. Grandma and Grandpa are all I know. They were my everything, they are my everything.

I walk toward their room, this isn't an easy task. I'm still a child, I still become irrational but things seem clearer because I know death, I have seen him and felt him. He is the enemy. The door is shut and I whisper their names again but recieve no answer. Deep down, I know there won't be. I see them. I feel the momentary freeze, the cold take over my body the pain in my chest and stomach from the shock. Grandma is on the bed she looks peaceful a bit of blood dripping from her lips and grandpa is kneeling on the floor beside her, his hand cluthing his chest, his head on grandma's stomach.

I can't help but stare at them for a long time. I am in denial. The memories flood in. There are so many. They loved each other even in death. I look around them a picture of myself on the night stand. I watched them die. We died together. Before I know it I leave the room, the door is behind me shut. I am walking away, downstair in the living room where all things are living.

I cannot cry but I can feel the physical pain of loneliness. It is aching and searing. I begin to shake and fall on my knees. Fate wants me alone. I am undeserving of true love so it is taken. I cry but each tear is like acid dripping from my eyes, my throat closes in on me, for I am trying to scream but nothing comes out, I am choking, I am slowly dying. I claw at the flesh of my arms for my sweater is off and I only wear plaid. I feel the blood under my fingertips. I feel worse. Orphan Arnold is real. I am alone.

My clawing is abruptly stopped and I flinch from the touch of flesh on flesh. "Arnold stop." She harshly whispers. I can hear the tears in her voice. I turn to the yellow haired female who is looking at me with utter concern. "I'm so sorry." She stutters as if thi is her fault, that her apology can fix this life long pain. And momentarily it does. For I am not, she is with me. I fall into her embrace and she holds me shakily at first but her fingers bore ino my back flesh and hold me there. I grasp onto her for dear life cause being alone is deathly. We cry together for we are alone together. _We're meant to be together._

 **A/N:** Review.


	2. This World's Optimistic

Chapter 2: This Worlds Optimistic

 _I didn't make an annoucement earlier because I wanted the readers to grasp the full chapter..._

 **A/N:** So I've always wondered since the episode of the flood what would happen to the children of PS118 if an epidemic worse than a flood occured leaving them adult-less? Well I pretty much answered my own question. This is predicted to be 10 chapters but that may change. This story was inspired by the poem Hollow Men by T.S Elliot and the great novel Lord of the flies...

 _To clear the air on possible questions. The kids are six graders. So ages 11/12 Harold being 14/15._

For a moment I am lost, truly lost and reality has no meaning. My world seems to be ending and nothing is comprehendable. I've lost my family. I always knew that at a young age I would but I had never imagined it would be when I'm eleven. Helga's arms are around me but I don't really feel them anymore like I did when my eyes poured out and she joined me. I feel myself leaning into her embrace holding her closer tighter so that we will never be apart. I have no one to care for anymore except Helga and my friends. So I make a promise to myself, I promise to always protect Helga and I... and the ps118 kids. When I need someone, she's always there to comfort me and I find myself being there for her as well. Its like when death came, my eyes opened up. I am awake for the first time, not in a day dream. Helga has always come first and now here I am realizing it the day I've lost so many, the day I became an adult, the day I took on yet another responsibility beyond my control but I am Arnold and that's just what I do. Helga understands that, that's why she comforts me because she knows I'm human though she referred to me as her angel once, that I am God-like. She understands I am raw of pain and burned with disappointment from life so she sits with me, talks with me, advises me and holds me. I only can wait for the day she kisses me.

Gerald and Phoebe walk in and sit in front of us. Gerald's cheeks covered in dry tears, his eyes in hateful slits. It bothers me but in my state of oblivion I don't care or see much. Phoebe is crying silently and Helga hasn't shed any tears for her own family which I can only assume is dead as well. Everyone we know is dead, except us and that little bit of information frightens me.

"They're all dead." Helga speaks. The silence is entirely consumed and digested into our stomachs. Mine is already full from the burden of death.

"Obviously Pataki." Gerald snarls at the blonde girl. His voice is entirely different from anything I have heard. He speaks with so much hate but I blame it on the earlier slight.

"I was just making sure." Helga actually sounds meek, her voice like Phoebe's. I assume she's too tired to argue.

Gerald grunts and Grabs Phoebe's wrist rather roughly and makes her stand with him. "Arnold, we have to go to Gerald Field." He says before sending Helga a powerful glare. It's almost as if he blames her for all of this. I sigh to myself and face Helga, her face is red, her fist out and she's trembling in anger.

"I could have killed him, Arnold. I could have but I didn't because I tried to understand. I truly tried." I just listen stunned to say the least that Helga didn't lose her compose. She tuly was restraining herself. "That is why I choose not to be nice to people. Kindness is always mistaken for weakness. I am not weak." She harshly bumped into me leaving the boarding house.

I stood here alone for 5 minutes basking in the memories because in the end that'll be the only reason to try. Phoebe amd Gerald are far away from Helga. The two girls look at each other from brief glances and Helga is hurt that Phoebe clearly choose Gerald. If Helga needs a friend, I'll be that. We walk to Gerald field to be greeted with a few of the ps118 kids. The rich kids (Rhonda, Lorenzo, Iggy, and Peapod kid) are crying or either have grim faces. Lorenzo has the most heart broken face among them all, he holds his phone in his hand limply, he seems dead. Helga immediatly goes over to him and pulls him up to her closely, her hair completely down. I tingle a bit from watching her embrace anyone else beside me. These thoughts are dangerous, so I must tuck them away or it'll be the end of me. He doesn't embrace her though, just looks past her shoulder at nothing in particular. Rhonda, of course, is loudly crying and she keeps saying daddy. I think about Lila and how she only has her father and I truly ache. I'm hoping for the best but I expect the worst. The upper middle class (Harold, Park, Curly, Nadine, Eugene and Sheena) approach us. Sheena is holding on to Eugene for dear life as his eyes look off into the distant, there is nothing there. Curly is at his most silent, no manical laugh, no sorrow just disturbia. He will be a problem I mark to myself. Harold is crying for his mommy and Lorenzo cringes at the word. Nadine and Rhonda hold each other. The rest of the kids all share the same dexpression of tears and sorrow. My concern lies for the ones who are silent and distant. I should be concerned about myself because I am silent and distant. I'll just repress it...but the memories are the only thing keeping me going.

I see her red hair, I see the tears spilling endlessly, I see the whimpering and hear her soft moaning. She is beyond crushed and there is nothing I can do because that kind of pain never goes away. I can only show I'm here, I'm alive but she wouldn't give a damn because she never liked me liked me. She would just ever so politely thank me for being there, lie to me and say she's okay when she's not. Helga and her are so close, at times it scares me how close. They both are distant when it comes to their emotions. Lila is quite manipulative, she's used me, knowing my feelings. Helga is a kind timid soul and helps in secrecy. I don't know who I can trust and care for more between the two. I've taken on more than I can handle, I know this. In the end I must fend for myself but that's never been me...I watch as Stinky carries a hateful gleam in his eyes just like Gerald, but he looks almost happy. Everyone knew Stinky's father was abusive, ever since Stinky turned down the million dollars his father would physically abuse him for any fault. Brainy looked as if nothing happened as if he expected this, Sid looked agitated, like he was forcing his tears to stay inside. Joey had his hands in his pockets shifting back and forth on his toes.

Here we all were. We were what was left of Hillwood, I suspected. I wanted to speak but no words formed.

"All of our parents, our families are gone." Helga started. "And it's suspcious...to me that we are the only survivors."

"Helga don't start this paranormal bull. Just be greatful you're still here. God must really pity you." Gerald spoke.

"What's your problem Johanson?! I'm just stating the obvious...no one finds it weird?" Helga looked around frantically and I step up beside her, showing where my loyalty resided at the moment, Gerald was out of turn, he was being heartless.

"Arnold? You believe Helga's bull shit?" Gerald swore. Everyone looked, we didn't cuss except Stinky, Harold and Sid sayign it for laughs but Gerald had used it properly and in perfect context.

"Helga's right Gerald...it's weird that we were the only ones to make it out. you don't think its weird?"

Gerald eyes meet mine and he continued to have those angry slits they soften though as if he was still in thought. He nodded his head and looked off into the distance. "It all makes sense now." He sighed to himself.

"Well wilkers Gerald, what are ye talmbout?"

"The tale of the hollow men" Stinky, Harold and Sid broke out in sighs 'Oohs'

"Gerald as keeper of this tale, speak." Sid introduced Gerald and I couldn't help but bask in the familarity of being a kid again.

"Thank you Sid." Gerald cleared his throat and began. "The story relates to poem but its one of a proficy well more of an omen."

 _"Hillwood before it became a city was very much farm land. A kid by the name of T.S. Elliot was a farmer's boy. He would often get scolded for his lack of interest in farming. His dad always called him a lazy boy. On the days Elliot was to work in the field for his chores, he instead would look out to the scarecrows that stood still, strong and intimidating. He often wondered how these men came to be, were they men before they became so lifeless? So hollow. And thats what he called them...The Hollow Men._

 _On one particular day, a day he was supposed to be doing chores, Elliot had a vision. One that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He envisioned the world ending. The apocolypse. Elliot scared for his dear life awaken by the vision looked out to the Hollow Men terrifired for they held the secrets of the worlds ending._

 _Running toward his small, plain home. He ran into his mothers arms and told her exactly what he had seen._

 _He had seen children in strange clothing, no adults around, become Hollow Men. His mother didn't believe him of course. She told him to lay down, instead he ran away. Elliot had written a small passage in his time to think and came upon his home later that evening to find burning wood, smoke and ashes. He ran inside to see beloved mother and father...well gone._

 _Shortly after the good people of Hillwood came to salvage what they could of the family but it was too late, they had found the parents but no Elliot. A young childhood friend of Elliot looked out toward the field, the same field Elliot often gazed upon and saw something startling._

 _A small scarecrow, dressed in Elliot's attire standing tall with the rest of the Hollow Men. In his hand held a note._

 _"This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper."_ Gerald ended his speech. Silence consumed us all.

Finally one spoke out, Harold.

"I don't get it." He scratched his head.

"Harold you oaf!" Rhonda dried her eyes, head held high. "What Gerald is saying is that the end of days is happening to us and that we're going to become hollow men!" She began to cry again into her hands and Nadine patted her back.

"I find that highly unlikely, Gerald." Phoebe spoke silently, her voice lacked any life. It hurt to listen.

"I don't think we're going to be scarecrows!" Gerald growled. "Its just weird that his prophecy is happening. Man whatever." Gerald walked away a few paces ahead and started breathing in and out. I felt like I should do the same.

Thinking of the legend just spoken, I find myself trying to interpret it but nothing comes to mind. I shake my head tired. So tired I could sleep...forever.

The silence consumes us all and the sun speaks.

"We need a group leader, I nominate myself." Everyone looks around at each other and my thoughts are interupted, they weren't good ones, so I am grateful.

"Oh no no no! You will NOT lead me. I refuse!" Rhonda crossed her arms across her chest defiently. I do not blame her, Helga has never been quite nice, at least to the others.

"Then who's going to lead us Rhondaloid?! No ones offering!" Helga held her arms up wildly geturing to the rest of us, who's lips are sealed. Cowards, all of them except Helga. Responcibility that great is frightening, am I able?

"I nominate my mans Arnold." Gerald speaks out with so much confidence, I'm touched and yet saddened.

"Yea Arnold" "Oh definetly Arnold." A great few speak out in my name. I can see Helga's expression tighten but she relaxes.

"Fine you chuckleheads! Arnold is the leader." She crosses her arms and looks at me. No glare, no hateful eyes just pure curiousty in those sea envious eyes. "What should we do Arnold?"

Their eyes peer at me, for I am their leader. I hold their lives in my hands. The weight hurts but I carry it.

"Let's grab some pillows and blankets and head to Mighty Old Pete tonight...we can discuss the bodies tomorrow." I grimance at the word and we all remember those we loved most are dead.

The pillows are grabbed, the blankets laid down and all of us lay down feigning sleep. No one is asleep though. We are all struck with the memories. The memories that will only be memories. No future lies with our families anymore. Some sob quietly while others stare at the ceiling or wooden ground comprehending what this all means. I however stand outside the Mighty Pete and again for the third time today, I cry.

The moon is half full and glares down at my body. Is it trying to comfort me or remind me of my loss? Either way it reminds me I'm not alone. I feel a presence, hair teasing my arm flesh, I don't look over because I know who this stranger is.

No crickets chirp, just the moon, the stranger and I. I breathe to myself and make a bold move. I clasp my hand with the strangers, our intertwined finger lie in my lap.

"Helga, tell me something?"

"Hmm."

"Did you get what Gerald meant by the story? I keep thinking about it and I'm...well I just don't get you. Do you?" I tend to stray from Helga when it comes to any question because her responces always lead me feeling hurt. I cannot explain this new found courage to be with her constantly but she's allowing me so I take full advantage.

"I didn't cry over my parents today. I didn't cry because I knew a long time ago that they were already dead, especially my mother." I just listened because when Helga speaks she leaves me breathless. "She lay around lifeless, smothie induced, her eyes and voice in a whisper. Whenever she spoke it was lke the wind. you could feel it but do you ever stop and actually listen? No because the wind isn't a living person."

"I'm not sure exactly what Elliot saw in that wacky vision of his but I do know that those hollow men represent us when we die. Our spirit, our will gives up on us sometimes before our bodies do. Scarecrows don't have emotions, but they do have bodies." My eyes widen, she's smarter than any other child I have ever encountered. I curse under my breath angered that I never saw this Helga until it was too late.

"Elliot became a Hollow man because a part of him died and I think...its stupid, never mind."

"No, Helga you can tell me anything." I look into her eyes. The seas look upon my favor and I am forever honored.

"Arnold, we are the Hollow men." Again for the third time today, Helga cries. My finger slides under her eyes catching the seasalt water. We both gasp at the touch. How can a physical touch be felt...everywhere.

Our eyes waiver to each others faces, I can study those seas forever but instead the beings body crashes into mine. I hold her as her arms engulf me.

"Promise me something." I mumble into her hair, she smells so girly. Each intake becoming apart of my bloodstream. I've enhaled her.

"Yes, anything." The sincerity gives me shivers. I tremble and make eyes meet.

 _"You and I can never seperate. In life and in death, we are forever bound."_

She doesn't speak but her eyes are calm, the sea after the storm. The moon shines down in our favor. So I like to believe but I am reminded the moon is an envious creature for she is forever alone in the skies, her lover long dead and deep within the earth. I pray she doesn't tear us apart but I am reminded prayer has stopped working a long time ago.

 **A/N:** I use to write for reviews and now I write for the sole purpose of telling a good story.


	3. Best You Can Is Good Enough

A/N: Thank you to my two reviewers EJ and Penguin. You guys gave this fiction of mine a chance and I hope that you're both thoroughly enjoying the journey.

Chapter 3: Best You Can Is Good Enough

This system, I've worked it out in my head, over and over again. The system cannot fail us. We are strong. We are the class of PS118. Yet I sense this air, the same air thats always lingered around me. The air was first felt when I was one, my parents leaving me to travel into the jungles. Those same jungles I hate and want to be in so direly. Those jungles are death. The air I feel around my tufts of hair, death.

I try not to think on such matters, reminding myself I am Arnold, keeper and protector of the PS118. I am their leader. So I must lead.

The sun has risen and we awake. Each hungered from the deperivision of food on yesterday's tragic events. My own stomach deceives me and begs for food. I can eat because I am alive and these little facts want to destroy me so desperately. I've been awake for a long while now, watching the transitions of black to red and orange. Back when I was ten I would find comfort in this miracolous artwork from the creator. Now that I'm _eleven_ , I find no solace in its beauty and I question where the creator has gone, if he even exists.

Helga stirs next to me, her arm has a bit of drool on it. She's stirred over twenty times now, her whimpering unnoticed from the others, except me. What she hadn't shown yesterday could be seen in her dreams. I wipe the tears that have spilled from her closed eyes. She is internally pained and it breaks my already broken heart that the strongest amoungst us is breaking.

The seas have come to life and they look upon me as I gaze upon them. We lay facing each other for a long moment, the others exhausted I assume. Instead of trying to read her, I just look upon her face, drinking in these features I've known all my life but had never truly looked upon. Her small round nose, shaped like her middle initial and those pouty lips, the upper much more prominant than the bottom. We scan each other, the sea watches my lips, as if wanting to pull me into the current but they hesitate and reality is upon she and I..again.

"What's the plan?" Helga blunty asks, her voice in a firm whisper.

"The school; collect all the food we can, fix up classrooms so we can have a place to sleep. I figured it has air conditioning and heat, also more room." I gestured to my other side to point out Harold's obnoxious and unhelped snoring.

I could see Helga's lips twitch upward, her hand covering her mouth to supress such a contagious noise. My lips moved upward on their own accord but it was remembered in times such as these laughter, smiling was inappropriate. We both stopped knowing what injustice we served. The silence consumed us for a brief minute until the sun spoke.

"What...what about the bodies?" She looked ill, her face paling.

She didn't need to worry though, I already thought of such things. If I didn't think such things I should have never have taken the role as leader.

"It'll be taken care of within two days, no more than two days." I tap my finger upon my chin, more thoughts flooded.

If the bodies were not taken care of then they would roat and smell. Mr. Kokashka once told me that the dead human body was the worst smelling thing in the world. I don't remember how the subject was spoken upon or why it was but Grandpa and the boarders were upset for such foul conversation at dinner. Though grandma got a thrill out of it. The memories. Then I feel the tapping sensation on my shoulder. My eyes open. When had they closed? Helga is concerned but I must mask these anxities I possess or worry will erupt amoungst her...and the others.

"Come on Arnold, let's wake the others." She begins to stand but my hand reaches to her arm. This electricty, it isn't natural. We both look upon each other and I'm almost at a loss of the words moments I had ago.

"No, let them sleep." I say, she shrugs my touch off, so I am forced to say what needn't be said. "Just lay here...with me for awhile." Her eyes widen and I can see the seas are so still. She lays beside me, her hand laying carelessly between us two.

"Why don't you call me Football Head anymore?" They slip from my mouth and I am grateful that for a change it is normal conversation. Close to normal.

She looks thoughtful and nibbles on her lip. This tempation to touch her lips...it is too frequent. _Tuck it away_ , I command silently.

"When I said it, except the first time, it was a nickname I had for you, a friendly nickname." More surprises, the name was one I never approved of for it was used hatefully the first time she had claimed me as such. My headshape was one I was never insecure about until she had said it. That the girl I had cared for so deeply at three could think so horribly of me, my head.

"Arnold, I say your name because...well...I feel like we..." I watched as she swore under her breath, more confused than I ever had been before. "Look I consider you a friend, my closest friend. And I don't want to lose you over a dumb nickname."

My breath hitched. She considers me a friend. The genuine smile cannot be stopped nor my hand bravely engulfing hers. She gasps and looks to our hands.

"I like Football Head." I mean what I say. It is the one thing that keeps me sane and stay grounded, remind me I am ten. "Just don't say it in front of the others." My eyes glance over to the rest of us who sleep. Her palm touches mine and our fingers together intertwine.

This Helga, this girl...

The first stirring begins and my thoughts are incomplete for I cannot be a ten year old caught up in irrational feelings. I must be their leader. I stand up and wait by the entrance of the aging treehouse. They silently speak amoungst themselves and look upon me. When I am given full attention, I decide to speak this plan.

"We're going to walk to the school and grab something to eat. I think we all need to eat some food. It may be difficult with yesterdays...circumstances but if we want to live on and find out what happened exactly to our friends, teachers...and family, we need to be healthy. Is that okay?" Not one of us spoke out but we all looked to one another waiting for the oppose but none came. So I proceeded on. "Anyway, questions?" I finished.

"What's the plan afterward?" Eugene's hair looked matted and still possessed a great bit of dubre. I looked on to all my friends in their sorry state. Clothes ripped, small cuts filled with dry brown blood and white dubre.

"After lunch, we'll clean up the classrooms a bit and start getting supplies together and hopefully we can all get cleaned up and in decent clothes."

"Why must we clean the classrooms?" Rhonda's arms were crossed as she gave me an indifferent look. Before I could answer her, the sea spoke.

"Duh Rhondaloid, it's going to be our shelter." She rolled her bewitching eyes at the gossip queen and my lips twitched a bit feeling as equally protected.

"How was _I_ supposed to know _that_. Hmph." Rhonda rolled her eyes and turned away.

"Look Rhonda, the schools provide heat and cold, the walls are stronger than the houses and the cafeteria is big enough for everyone to eat in. Also the classrooms are big enough to place bedding." I had to rationalize and appease, for if they weren't happy and at peace things could get antsy. I've seen it before.

Rhonda seemed to be pleased by this notion and took it upon herself to go home with a few others for carriage for the supplies that could be used.

"Alright then. Rhonda, yourself, Nadine, Park, Lorenzo and Sheena can help you. By the time you guys come back to the school, we'll have something for you all to eat." I reasoned.

Rhonda waved off her hand and slowly went down the ladder, her helpers following after. The rest of us looked amoungst each other and decided to go off Mighty Pete and venture toward the shelter, our future home. In this walk, which wasn't very long but wasn't short either, I took it upon myself to think. During the silent moments, when I'm not bothered by the need to think for others safety along with my own, I recount on the numerous amounts of memory saved with my grandparents and the boarders. A memory flashes to my mind.

 _It is Friday and school is out. We're all talking about our weekends but I wait till they ask me mine. For I will do the impossible. I have been handed_ The List _. The list no kid has ever managed to accomplish. I've always loved a good challenge and this one will be conquored by me. I believed it strongly._

 _First, I was to watch every cartoon from six am while eating three bowls of my favorite cereal, Sugar Chunks. That hadn't worked out in my favor, my alarm, the same alarm I've had for years broke on me. My cereal is emptied and the milk is sour._ Look on the brightside. _I turn on the TV for cartoons and the set implodes, Grandpa's fault._

 _My mitt and baseball in my hands I take off to the park, only to be jipped and have my ball stolen from Steve, odd character._ Look on the brightside.

 _Grabbing my bike, I went for the steepest hill in Hillwood. I take off lifted the sensation of wind and then an abrupt stop. The roads were being fixed and now my bike will be stuck._ Look on the brightside.

 _I go to the movies, running in glee for this cannot be ruined. Fate couldn't be this cruel to a nine year old. I was wrong. My pocket presents a hole and my money that I worked hard for in chores around the boarding house is easily gone. I beg the woman who is uninterested in my plees. Then the idea hits. The immoral in me. I sneak into the theatre. But karma has beat me, the screen tears and the list was invalid._

 _There is no brightside, I told myself trudding toward my home. The pigeons keep me company and there she appears. The grey haired angel is floating with a piano. She gives me a kind knowing smile and I am reminded that grandma knows everything even when she isn't told and she heals in her own way._

 _The piano is played and she sings to me while the sun sets and night consumes us._ The brightside is alive because she was.

 _"When life gets you down wearing a frown. Dont look away look up. Cause memories true come of the blue; you know the way, look up. When skies have gone gray, things gone stray, don't look away, look-"_

"Arnold." I'm awaken from this daylike dream. I look to Helga who waits for me. "We're here."

We all walk in and the instructions begin. Helga, Lila, Phoebe, and Eugene proceed to the cafeteria to stock and seperate as much food as possible. While Gerlad, Brainy, Curly, Joey, Stinky, Harold, Sid and I must rid the bodies.

The controversy has already begun, specifically from Sid, disgusted by the job, I don't blame him. Harold only disagrees because he is lazy.

"Look man, this has to be done. We don't want the place stinking up." Gerald speaks with little sympathy and this bothers me.

These bodies once lived, had a breath, spoke and walked.

"I'm going to see if the girls and Eugene need help." Sid took his cap off wiping his hair down. We watched him walk.

"Chicken." Harold spoke out. "Let's...get the dead meat out of the way."

"Please, can we not refer to them as dead meat." I beg. I cannot fathom the lack of sympathy. I do not cringe or cry to be strong for them, their excuse...I find none.

"Sorry er Arnold." Harold apologizes and I am baffled but tragedy changes everyone, I suppose.

We decided to place the bodies in one hallway until we can dig enough graves. The classrooms decided upon were the sixth graders hall. After entering the nurses office to find her crushed from ceiling we look away and grab for the face masks and gloves for safety. Such tragedy leaves bad will, including the smell. It had already begun.

The first classroom holds no dead bodies expect for the teachers. This newfound discovery leads to hysterics and I begin to check in every room to realize that all the children have been taken but the adults remain in their dead state.

"What the hell man?!" Gerald states enraged. This is the second time he has cussed.

"This is darn right freaky y'all!" Stinky puts his heavy hands through his hair. I watch as their faces become confused. Emotions mixed into so many eyes.

"Okay, so we know all the children's dead bodies have been taken." I recount outloud to myself. "But the adults bodies have been left behind. Why though?"

"Yea it's bat crazy!" Gerald becomes hysterical, the child in him still evident.

"This wasn't an accident, Helga's right." I whisper to myself. I clear my throat. "Guys, our class is the only surviving people in Hillwood. The other children have been taken and the adults left behind. There are two possible solutions."

"Aliens." Curly says, one of his lenses is cracked. I take note and this detail bothers me.

"No Curly." I feel exhausted. When will anyone get it? This isn't a joke. We have to grow up. They all need to grow up. I can't do it alone.

"Look man...announce it tomorrow, too much to deal with. We have to finish the job." Gerald slaps his hand on my shoulder and I am reminded he is my bestfriend. This comfort lasts me as I nod and we continue on. Carrying each adult to their resting place..for now.

The last body is Simmons. Our gloves covered in the adults blood and stench. My nose wrinkles for these masks do not protect us from the odor. If I can smell it on us this early on I know that this problem need be taken care of today. The plans real in my mind...so many. And it abruptly stops. Simmons is covered by a heavy block of ceiling, his blood staining the floor and sticky. Brainy's shoe smears in it and I force myself not to feel.

"Let's pull it up together and move it from him." I stammer. I, Gerald, Stinky and Curly on the right of Simmons and Harold, Brainy and Joey his left. I can make out their faces, the digust. They need to vomit. I need to but I will not. Each hand is gripped holding an edge tightly.

"On 3...1...2...3!" We heave with all our might and throw the piece away from Simmons. Startled by the noise a few of us jump and duck as pieces, broken, fly into the air.

I take a few needed breaths and look amoung the lot.

"Everyone alright?" I must ask such questions. Their lives are in my hands. Everyone nods, impatient and yet hestitant to finish the job.

His body is sunken inward, he is crushed from the ceiling piece. This vile ceiling has killed a special person, our teacher. The one teacher who became so involved in our lives and meant that we were each special for not our present talents but the hidden qualities we have hidden from him, the class, the world.

I tug my sweater and plaid shirt off and put it on a desk. This will be messy. The look at me and follow in suit. We carry Simmons and I tighten my eyes for I can feel his sticky cold blood on my flesh. A few moans are heard and the weight feels heavier for Joey has let go to vomit. _The brightside_. The hallway feels like such a long walk and it is longed for Brainy vomits and Stinky. Harold is red in the face and Gerald bits his lower lip. He is trembling. And I...well I...

Finally we lay him down gently and close his eyes, those dead blue eyes that terrify me. I question what he saw in his last moments. I feel this overwhelming sorrow, it hits everyone for its presence is with us.

Gerald finally releases his pain, so much pain in the form of bile. Harold begins to shake and look at his hands and protruding stomach covered in Simmons dark blood.

I walk to the boys bathroom and they follow after me...slowly. I wash away the filth with wet paper towels, it smears more and I become angered. I scrub harder till my flesh becomes an irritated red.

"Arnold stop." I hear Gerald speak. But theres so much blood.

"Theres still blood Gerald." I scrub harder till I fell the scrapes of recycled paper scrape against my skin unpleasantly. It won't go away.

"Arnold there is _no_ blood. Stop!" I look down at my hands and stomach, I still see the blood. He's lying. How can he not see it. I blink hard to my eye scream for me to stop. My vision reappears and there is no blood but irritated red flesh with blood spots. I looke to Gerald, he is concerned. He pitys me. I storm out to retrieve my shirt.

Lunch. We walk down the hallways, each man making a silent promise to never repeat the horrors we had to endure today. I will not tell the others that boys had gotten sick today, boys had cried today, and that boys had their hands and tummies covered in another mans blood.

"I smell food." Harold mumbles but the silence is so evident he sounds clear. I smell it too but the odor we endured earlier will not leave me though my stomach decieves me again.

We walk into the cafeteria to see trays set out at one large table, enough for everyone. Each has a grilled cheese on it and steaming red soup. One of my favorite dishes.

Sid puts spoons on each tray and Eugene holds a pile of napkins. Phoebe is already sitting at a table a tray in front of her with steaming food. Harold runs over and sits at the end. Digging into his meal. He hums to himself happily. At least one of us is happy.

"This is great! Who cooked?" Harold slurps loudly.

"Helga did, she's great." Sid winks at her and my fist clench. I breathe deeply and shake my head. I cannot think such things.

"Lila helped with the soup." Helga shurgs. For once, she doesn't berate the red head. She smiles shyly at Helga. This change I find bafling and yet I am glad. Helga is being who I have always wanted to see...it took tragedy.

Noise errupts as Rhonda and the rest of the PS118 enter. They each carry pillows, comforters, towels, soap, and clothes. I nod at her and she smirks, satisfied with her good deed.

"Set em to the side. Lunch, as promised." I gesture toward the table.

"Such genaric food, suppose I'll have to get used to it." Rhonda seats herself beside her dearest friend. Gerald sits next to Phoebe and Helga frowns. I sit and tap the empty spot beside me. She sits without a word. We eat silently. Everyone finishing rather quickly while I stare down at my food, cold now.

"Arnold eat...please." The blonde girl whispers to me. I nod and try my best to chew and swallow each bite of sandwhich. Each bite however doesn't taste better than the last. The stench won't leave, the blood on my hands still _feel_ like they are there. But I eat on. Feeling more sick.

The others finish and I decide to dismiss them.

"Gerald will show you guys where we will reside. It still needs to be cleaned though a bit. The janitor's closet should supply you guys. Afterward, head to the lockerrooms. The water seems to be working fine still. Take a shower and change into the clothes, Rhonda has provided." I notice Rhonda smiling at our classmates. "The earlier cooking crew can fix dinner..." I take a deep breath. My stomach is clenching without my permission. Helga puts her hand on my back. I stand up tall. I must continue. "The rest of you, Rhonda in lead, situate the room. Understood?"

The crowd nods and gets to work, leaving Helga and I. I run outside the courtyard and finally the sickness leaves me. Each pulling urge hurts as I vomit more into the grass begging for the pain to disappear, the blood but I vomit more. A sick acid bubbling within. Helga rubs circles into my back and repeats 'it's okay'. But it isn't okay...it never will be.

The tasks are done. The classrooms cleaned, the filth gone down the drain, fresh clothes worn, dinner cooking and the room becoming situated. Now is my chance.

"Gerald take care of things, while I'm gone." I pat him on his shoulder. He looks confused and displeased but he does gracuously.

"Hey Stinky." I call him to the side and the plan is devised. Our destination a simple walk to the Peterson home and an even faster route back to the shelter. We make it in time for dinner. Tomato soup, leftover meatloaf and bread.

Comforters litter around, all cushioned by massive amounts of pillows. I see them, two girsl alone. One with red hair and another with sea envious eyes. Both on different spectrums of the classroom. My decision isn't easy but I have already made my choice...within my thoughts. It says go to the sea and I do.

Pillow talk begins to consume everyone but they speak in whispers and I look upon Helga who is staring at me, reading me. She and I do everything similiar including analyzing one another.

"Where did you learn how to cook?" I ask.

"Myself really." She says, her voice is much more sweeter, there is no fight. "Mirium would never be awake long enough to actually finish cooking. She almost always burnt the house down." She chuckles at this information while I try to make out her home. The visuals are never really pleasant. "So I would finish it off and eventually she all together just forgot to cook. Bob had a cow and because I didn't want to hear his yap I cooked. Those cooking shows do wonders. But I'm only a kid, so nothing special will ever be made. We don't have enough supplies for that anyway."

"I'll get that fixed tomorrow."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How are you able to know and take care of everyone? It's...admirable." My breath hitches. She thinks I'm admirable.

"I just...have to, I guess." No better answer is found. Her hand touches mine and my eyes look unto her tiny hand on top of mine.

"You don't have to do it alone. Don't feel like you do." She sheepishly grins and begins to move it away. "Cause you know...I..well..I'm pretty good at these... _things_." She stutters in that way she does when I find her in an alley or behind a dumpster.

I grip her hand in mine and simply nod. She doesn't know that I'm not doing this alone, that she provides me the strength to continue on, to not be consumed by these dark thoughts. She will know..someday.

I wait until the last child is asleep. Many of us huddled closely to those we care and are comforted by more. Helga lay beside me whimpering. I pat her back until peace comes to her. She sighs and sleeps gently. I look upon who is needed for this task. I must pick the least effected, the strongest males for such a job. I myself must prepare for the dirty job that is to be committed. I inhale the clean air and exhale softly.

I tap awake Stinky, his one eye opens first but he stands and leaves the classroom as instructed. Next Curly and Brainy, the latter more excited for his unknown job than the other. Joey is next, I instruct him to wake Harold. Harold loudly stirs but it quieted by a small kick from Joey. I must later remind him of his violence. I go over to Gerald who lay next to Phoebe, a protective arm engulfing her to him. The sight is sweet and my inner friend is happy that he finally has made his courtship with the asian but I am reminded how it happened and that I have a job to do.

"Gerald." I stir him, he swats at me lazily. I sigh and stir him again this time a carved pencil point at my throat. I do not move and Gerald's exhausted red eyes look me over, a bit too long and puts it away as if he did immediately.

"Arnold man, what's going on." I shush him and nudge my head toward the classroom door. The two of us walk out and are greeted with the other five boys. They look at me expectantly. So I give them the job.

"We need to get the dead bodies out of our homes. I asked you guys because I believe you are the strongest...mentally and physically for such a task." My voice is foreign to me but I speak on. "I can understand if you do not wish to but this _needs_ to be done."

We are all silent, I look amoungst each boy and they nod at me, one at a time, Gerald being last. The five boys leave Gerald and I behind.

"We're in this together Arnold." Gerald held his thumb out. The memories drown me. My thumb sticks out and it is agreed upon. I however cannot stop thinking about the pencil Gerald possessed...I cannot think such things. There is more importance to take care of.

We step outside the school yard and walk down the street right where Stinky and I left our help.

"WHOA." Harold says. The other boys, except Stinky and I, look in awe at the help.

"A truck?!" Gerald his give away squeek appears, the signs of aging. We are all getting older.

"Yep, Stinky can drive it too."

"Wow Stinky...that's cool." Joey's mising teeth are apparent in his wide smile. Funny how grown up things are amazing to us, to me. When, now, we all must do these things everyday from now onward. Especially I, as leader.

"Shot gun."

"Shot gun."

"Shot gun third!" Curly pronounces strongly. His antics haven't seemed to die. Is he in denial?

"No fair." Harold says.

"I'll ride with you in the back." I declare.

Gerald, Harold and I sit patiently in the huge space in the back of the open truck. Stinky starts the car and the two boys near me are in awe that he even knew to start such a mighty machine.

I am reminded of Gerald and Helga driving a bus on our escape from FTI. The memories ripple through me and my hair as Stinky drives around to the back building. Then the work must begin.

We heave bodies into the back of the truck, piling each on top of the other. Gloves on our hands, masks covering our faces but the act and the stench never leave us.

"Curly, Brainy and Joey. The rest of us have it. Thank you and good night." I don't ask, I demand. For if they see me falter, I will be held for judgment.

Gerald sits beside me and Harold beside Stinky. I have the window seat, my head rests on my arm, my arm nestled on the open window pane. I look at our ruined city. No life left behind, though the lights from the street lights still glow, the sound, the soul is gone. I'm really too young to be feeling this old.

We stop at Mr. Potts' old working site. And dump the bodies one by one into the hole. I am saddened that I could do no better for them but this is the way it must be. My eyes are heavy but I cannot sleep for the burden is deep and the tasks still not quite done. I watch as Stinky directs a hose gushing water all over the back truck. Gerald and Harold wipe it down with spare towels and we lay a blanket. Tomorrow I'll send Stinky out and Rhonda to get as many supplies possibly. I'll write a list when I get back.

These mental notes haunt me and replay constantly as we arrive at the school. We wash up in the boys restroom. _Tissue._ Another note taken. Consumed by exhausten, we lay down to sleep. I lay beside a stirring Helga, patting her back till she is soothed once more. I cannot sleep. Today another burden. The blood never leaves my mind and I escape silently out the classroom.

I sit in the old classroom, my old classmates and I shared. The open wall revealing the night sky that soon turns to morning gray. A presence is felt beside me, I must look over for it isn't the sea envious eyed girl, it's Gerald. We sit silently watching as now the sky is gray. No words are exchanged and this moment reminds me of those many times we stayed awake during the weekends. Those memories that will never seem to fade and keep me going.

"Arnold I saw something." He finally speaks, I perk up.

"What?"

Gerald sighs deeply, a rock enfolded in his hand. "Some of the adults weren't killed by...whatever happened."

This information startles me and I have no words. What is he expressing to me? What else could have been the cause? Don't say what I fear...All thoughts. All unsaid.

"Then what?" I ask, going with the simplier.

"Bullets."

Speechless. "So you're saying..."

"I'm saying, whatever happened. What killed our friends and families was done purposely." He interrupts me. Anger flashes.

"Why are you just telling me this Gerald?!" Did this terrfiying force drift us? We can't even tell each other things anymore? All unsaid.

"I had to think, okay...these things...it's hard. I keep thinking about the morning everything happened. I was horrible to my family. I told them I hated them before I left for school." He throws the rock hard. It goes a far distance outside. I search for the right words and they come. They always do.

"They know you didn't mean it. And you didn't mean it. That's what should matter." I say them but do I mean it? I never told my family I loved them either or thanked Grandpa and Grandma for being there for me. No, I said nothing. I secretly seethed. For my only thought, my darkest thoughts were that I am an orphan. Now it is the truth. Regrets.

"Still...I just wish I could take it all back. Timberly." Gerald puts his face into his hands and openly cries. His sobbing creeps into my own soul and when times get like this, I fall back into the memories.

I'm not sure what I'm doing but I need to do it. I begin to sing.

 _"When life gets you down, wearing a frown. Dont look away, look up."_ He doesn't stir, so I continue, more enthusiasm instead of a whisper.

 _"Cause memories true, come of the blue; you know the way, look up."_ His hands slip from his face and look upon my face, he sees a somber smile upon it.

 _"When skies have gone gray, things gone stray, don't look away, look up."_

 _"When you're feeling under the weather, and the dark clouds are getting to you, keep your troubles light as a feather, and soon you'll be seeing a bright patch of blue..."_

"You gotta look up, you gotta be strong, you gotta take things as they come..." I say the last few words because they are strong and true. Grandma always knows, even now she knew, I bet.

 _"Cause everything new that happens to you is better when you...look up!"_ My voice was never the best but I sing the last lyric tenderly. As if I'm singing with Grandma.

The sky begins to glow and the first morning bird chirps. I gaze upon the beauty. Today is a new day, a new start. This is the true first day of survival.

"When I look up I think of Grandma. Maybe you can think of Timberly?" I don't look at him just gaze at the future. The silence consumes us and nature bewitches us. He doesn't nor I. This is okay though. We are still the same Arnold and Gerald. I believe it, strongly.

"It's a deal." He speaks to the dawn.

 _A/N: The memory and song of Arnold's is from the episode "The List" I choose this particular episode because it is one of the true times where we see Arnold attempting to be a kid. Though it didn't go his way, his grandmother who sung "Look Up" gave Arnold his brightside back. And this fic is quite dark, but I have to remind myself constantly that they're 11/12. So with that being said, the song is a haven for our poor blonde hero._

 _Review! Please!_


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